


Soft Stars

by s0lesurvivor (orphan_account)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/s0lesurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They would pay for what they did to the commonwealth. They would pay for the prejudice, the hurt, the grief they have caused on a so called mission for equality and peace. She was determined to wring the Brotherhood of Steel out by their necks, one by one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a small one shot, maybe a few chapters long as MacCready and the sole survivor join up with the railroad to avenge the death of their friend, Hancock, who was slaughtered at the hands of the Brotherhood of Steel. Enjoy <3 (ps there is a pre-established romantic relationship between the two).

     The sun drowned on the horizon as her trembling fingers dipped into a pool of clouded soot and charcoal, black as the sky being snuffed out above her. Her dirty fingers, an index and middle finger on each hand, smeared trails of the substance on her pale cheeks. The dark color a great contrast to the white birth mark kissed to her skin. She blew out a breath, one somewhere between angry and nervous, harsh in nature despite it. The one thing, however, that she refused to feel was fear. She felt fear the day her friend was ripped out from beneath her. The way the Paladin she had once associated with looked at her, deep eyes alive with hate, still clung to her spine. It bit at her skin and ripped at her soul. He gave her that look as he had laid her friend to rest under a barrage of hot ammunition. The blood, oh the blood, as she rushed forward to curl her arms beneath the ghoul she had grown so fond of. There was so many of them, storming Goodneighbor and laying waste to anyone without a heart beat or smooth skin. Daisy, KLEO, Kent -  _oh, poor Kent._ The Sole Survivor was afraid, she was afraid for her friends, but most importantly she was afraid of her own fate. Would she too die there if she attempted to fight back? The way they held MacCready back by his arms and buried fists into his guts for even reaching for his rifle. 

     He still bared those scars today, bruises that were like the surface of a desperate painting. Depressing shades of green, blue and purple painting portions of his torso and gut, even by his collar bones. Every night she had to lay beside him and eye those bruises, the hate in her heart grew harsher - a fire setting her very being ablaze. She set out for the railroad to help her and they agreed, her good friends at her side ready to take on certain death as long as she lead the way. And now they were here - a stockpile of guns and ammunition littered around them for their disposal. They had a plan, devised by most crafty of the bunch, Deacon who proposed they storm the decks of Prydwen and slaughter every one of those steel clad bastards. Leave not a single soul alive or retching, leave nothing of the Brotherhood except for their headquarters in flames. Harsh, but the sole survivor would not settle until exactly that would happen. She could not risk another one of her friends or even possibly her lover to be taken by them, to become another one of their bodies taken. Their souls crushed. 

     She tightened a fist around a cold grasp of loose bullets, her very self crumbling and giving way to the monster that had begun to grown within her. "We leave now," is all she could muster, the walls of her throat closing around them - the words, making them harsh and hollow, brittle even. She was ready to collapse, to finally allow the events of the past few days torture and consume her, but not until after her work was done. Not until after she left a sour taste in the mouth of the commonwealth that she was not a force to reckon with. 

     The group set out for the Prydwen, they had created banter on their way there of ways to get onto the ship. It all fell upon hijacking a vertibird to dock within the ship. While the brainstorming ensued, MacCready had pressed himself awfully close to the sole survivor. With his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, she allow a shallow gasp to part her lips. The way he touched her lower back, it conveyed a slur of words that his mouth would never do justice. It spoke volumes, it spoke fear, it spoke love and lust, but most importantly it told her that regardless of what happened, he went in there with love for her. And as she reached down to take his hand from her back and instead lace her fingers through his, she told him just the same. "Iris," MacCready's tongue clicked her name past his lovely lips and into the air. It did not fail to catch her attention, and bright eyes snapped up to meet his. A hand, his not hers, lifted to push stray strands of her dark, black hair from her face and out places where it stuck to her coal ridden cheeks.

                                                                                               "I will never let you go."

 

     They were on. With the help of Iris's persuasive tongue and the fire power of her men, they had successfully stormed the crumbling airport they used beneath the colossal, floating powerhouse and acquired a vertibird. They only took off after her and MacCready had suited up head to toe in power armor, hoping to get directly to the Elder's quarters. Silently, Iris prayed they had not caught wind of what happened below and would easily be able to use Deacon and Glory as bate. If they took out the heart of the Brotherhood first, the rest would surely crumble beneath them. Stepping off the humming vertibird, Deacon coughed lightly - for the first time in her life, she felt nervousness from not only him, but Glory as well. Iris looked back at the various minutemen and the rest of the railroad hidden upon the vertibird, waiting for the first sounds of gunfire to launch into action. This plan better work, because the sole survivor was not ready to have more blood on her hands that did not deserve to be spilled. 


End file.
